


And In the Darkness Bind Them

by Lumelle



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Bondage, Dominance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tentacle Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 15:10:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8406469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumelle/pseuds/Lumelle
Summary: After Fran makes a mistake, Mammon decides he should be reminded about who he belongs to, and what exactly he is worth.As it turns out, Fran may not be the one who has been hurt by the incident.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Set in some vague point in time where Fran's more or less a grown-up, as well as assuming that Mammon illusioned himself an adult body as soon as the curse wasn't messing things up.
> 
>  **Please note** that this story contains magical tendrils/tentacles used as restraints in a sexual context, possessiveness, dominance, discussion about self-worth, and fear of loss. Please read accordingly.

"What the hell was that?!"

Fran didn't even make a sound as Mammon slammed him against a wall, just the slightest of gasps escaping his lips. He regained his breath quickly, though, face as impassive as ever as he stared back at Mammon without the slightest hint of shock or fear. "What was what, Mammon-senpai?"

"That — that foolishness of yours!" Mammon grasped Fran's arms, holding him tight against the wall. There was no resistance at all, no acknowledgement that anything was at all out of the ordinary, and somehow, that irritated him even more. "Are you trying to get yourself killed, you stupid brat?"

Fran's eyes widened a fraction in realisation, before he fell back to his usual lack of expression. "I didn't die, though."

"Well, you could have!" Mammon shook Fran for a second before casting him off in disgust, stalking further into his bedroom. Fran hadn't even protested as Mammon dragged him up the stairs as soon as they returned to the mansion, simply followed him as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "You very nearly got yourself blown to pieces!"

"I'm not that easy to kill." Even without looking he could tell Fran was tilting his head to the side, looking like a curious bird, or perhaps the frog he modelled himself after sometimes. Which was ridiculous, and he really should have stopped, but it wasn't like Fran concerned himself with such trivial things. He never did.

"You say that now." Mammon clenched his fists. "All it takes is one time, one blow you don't foresee, one enemy you can't outsmart, and you will be nothing but ashes and broken bones." Like so many others. So, so many others, a list of names and losses and regrets so long, it had long since begun to fade from his memory. "And yet you go out of your way to court trouble, every chance you get!"

"Were you afraid for me, Mammon-senpai?"

"What — no!" Mammon spluttered, spinning around to face Fran, needing to see if the brat was joking, spouting out such nonsense. "Who would waste their time being afraid for someone who apparently wants to die?"

"I don't want to die, though." He couldn't even tell if Fran was being sincere, could not read that calm voice either way, and it was driving Mammon insane.

"You deal with the most dangerous people on the planet, and make a point of insulting them at every opportunity." His fingers were digging into his palms hard enough to hurt, but he couldn't relax his hands, not now. The pain was giving him a focus, keeping his thoughts in place before they spiralled out into something he could not control. "You deal in death and deceit and destruction, and yet you treat it all like a game! Either you have a death wish, or you think this is all a long, never-ending dream that you have been trapped in, and neither will end well for you."

"Haa." Fran stuck his hands into his pockets. "I do dream about Mammon-senpai, sometimes."

"You —!" Mammon very nearly strode forward, but then thought better of it. It only took a thought, after all, a thought and some intent, and suddenly the shadows in the corners of the room had solidified themselves into dark tendrils, merging themselves with those spreading out from under his cape. Fran saw them coming, he must have seen them, and yet made no attempt to move away as the tendrils snaked their way around his ankles, up to his legs, reaching and binding his wrists. It wasn't until Fran was immobile by force rather than choice that Mammon finally walked up to him, eyeing his prey.

He reached up to grasp that ridiculous hat, lifting it off of Fran's head and tossing it aside. The hair underneath was slick with sweat, a dirty turquoise that had been flattened to his scalp, a few strands splattered with the blood that had also smeared his face. Mammon almost wanted Fran to protest, wanted to hear him say something, anything in response, but Fran simply watched him with those immovable eyes.

They were nearly of a height now, though Mammon had cheated, as Belphegor would have stated it. The curse was gone, but his body was slow in gaining its former stature, still little but a child in the eyes of anyone who didn't know better. Except Mammon would not allow that, not now that he was free of his shackles. He was an illusionist, and an artist of his trade; to make his body match his mind was a trivial matter. So, as the rest of the Arcobaleno were still thought of as children, he appeared as his actual self to everyone who could not see through the deception. Those who could, well, they were few and far between, and for the most part knew better than to try.

Sometimes Mammon wondered what Fran saw when he looked at him, what those pale eyes were fixated on when he kept staring for no apparent reason. Most of the time, he knew better than to question it.

Mammon leaned forward, watching Fran's expression for even the most minute changes. He saw nothing of note, not until he came even closer and dragged his tongue along the lines of Fran's cheekbone, tasting the blood there. It was Fran's own, he noted, smeared from a small scratch that bore little significance yet managed to make him angry nevertheless. The blood on Fran's clothes belonged to others, unimportant others, faceless nameless trash who held no importance to Mammon.

Fran's eyelids fluttered, just a little, but Mammon caught the movement out of the corner of his eye.

Mammon pulled back a fraction, eyes locked on the pale depths of Fran's gaze. "Are you afraid, Fran?" he murmured, fingers tracing the line of Fran's jaw, playing feather-light on the cool skin. Fran always felt cool to his touch.

"No, I'm not." At least his breath was warm, mingling with the air on Mammon's lips, and Mammon suppressed a shiver as he stepped back.

"Well, you should be." He strode quickly out of reach, not that Fran could have reached out for him right now anyway. "You aren't as invincible as you seem to think. You are a little worm, an insignificant little bug in a very large world, and right now I could crush you like one without the slightest effort."

It was an empty threat, and they both knew it. Mammon was one of the finest illusionists in the world, one of only three who could ever hope to fool the Vindice, and in most situations, he would have thought the strength of his powers absolute. Yet this was Fran, Fran with his unwavering gaze that seemed to drill through every defensive barrier Mammon could put up, Fran who was another of the three and might one day be even greater than Mammon. If he was being held in place, it was because he wished to be, not because Mammon held that much power over him.

Somehow, this satisfied Mammon even more than the alternative.

"What are you going to do?" Fran asked, tilting his head again, stupid little frog with his heavy eyes and slow blinks and oh how Mammon wished to draw some reaction from him, anything but this indifference. "What do you want from me, Mammon-senpai?"

Mammon slid his hand into Fran's hair, deceptively gentle for a moment before he gripped tight, taking Fran's face in a crushing kiss that he ended with a sharp nip on his lower lip. This coaxed a little sound out of Fran at least, left the slightest hint of a flush on his cheeks as Mammon moved back, licking his lips.

"I want you to learn."

Fran didn't ask for clarification, knew better than to do so, well aware that Mammon would speak when he was ready and not before. He also didn't say a word as the tendrils of shadows grew stronger, more solid, lifting him off his feet and slithering under his clothes. Mammon let the shadows open Fran's coat and push it off his shoulders, never quite letting him go, one wisp of shadows moving in whenever another one let go. The belt was trickier, and the button and the zipper underneath, but Mammon was nothing if not skilled in the finer details of his art.

The main window of his bedroom gave out into a darkened garden, nothing but shadows this time of night, pale moonlight pouring onto the bare floor as the dim lights around the room all went out one by one. The shadows dragged Fran along, leaving him in stark silhouette in the moonlight, Mammon himself hiding in the darkness.

"What do you see?" He knew he didn't need to be near to speak directly into Fran's ear, didn't need to lean close for his breath to move the strands of seafoam hair at the nape of his neck. "Out there. What do you see?"

"Darkness, mostly." Fran attempted an awkward shrug, though his mobility did not truly allow for it at the moment. "You know, I always wondered why you wanted to live so high up in the mansion. Aren't all those stairs difficult when you have such short legs?"

For such impertinence, Mammon reached his shadows under Fran's shirt, caressing the pale skin hidden underneath. It wasn't quite like touching him with his hands, not as close and intimate, but if Mammon focused, it was very nearly the same. "Darkness, yes," he murmured. "Darkness and a big, large world that does not give a damn if you live or die."

"That's fair." Fran did not sound moved at all. "I'm not that important, after all."

"Don't you dare say that!" He had tried to keep his voice down, but nothing could coax him to rage quite like Fran. "You don't have the right to say that! You may think your life is just something to be thrown away, but I won't allow that!"

"Well, it's mine, isn't it?"

"Not anymore." Now he finally stalked close enough to touch again, reaching out one hand to run his fingertips along the side of Fran's neck. "I have claimed you. Your body, your life, it all belongs to me. And as long as I'm not finished with you yet, you have no right to treat yourself as unimportant."

Underneath his fingers he could feel Fran's throat moving. "How very greedy, Mammon-senpai."

"Of course I am." He let his shadows sneak further up Fran's shirt, teasing his nipples with soft, barely there touches, enjoying the small gasps he drew from his lover. "I chose this name myself, you know, this name and this life and this greed. I chose you, too, and I will not let go of that which is mine."

It was a dangerous game, the one the two of them played, and Mammon was very well aware he might end up being the one who got burned. It buried its roots in offhand comments made by Fran who had been too young to understand what he truly said, only seeking to get a reaction from those around him, had reached its bloom in heated touches and whispered claims in the darkness where no illusion could reach the eyes that could not see. Fran was still young but he was not a child anymore, if he ever truly had been one, had lost the last shreds of his innocence in the smell of blood and smoke long before Mammon had ever sullied his pale skin with greedy, selfish hands. It was one transgression Mammon refused to regret, one mistake he would never correct, and if this was his gateway to hell then at least the road there had long since been paved for him.

For all that he had wanted to steal a reaction from Fran he did not watch his expression, now, did not keep his eyes on the flushing face underneath the moonlight, did not wonder if someone might have caught a glimpse of the trembling body suspended in front of the window and the darkness without. All Mammon saw were the lines of Fran's back as he arched and trembled within his constraints, the strands of hair that clung to pale skin as he hung his head with a moan, a silhouette drawn spread eagle in the boundary between shadows and light. He felt it all, though, felt every shiver and tremble of the slim body under his illusions, the drops of sweat rolling down the hard panes of a delicate chest, narrow hips jerking and bucking in their captivity as Mammon stroked and caressed and teased without ever laying a hand on him.

He did see the pale drops falling onto the polished wooden floor as Fran's entire body drew taut, heard the hoarse cry that almost left Mammon himself gasping for air.

"You are mine," he murmured, drawing himself close and pressing against Fran's back, inhaling the scent of blood and sweat and sex that formed an intoxicating mixture that made him feel almost dizzy. "You are mine, and I only ever own precious things. So if you treat yourself as though you are something to be thrown away, I will have to punish you."

He reached his arms around Fran, hands caressing the trembling chest, feeling the heart beating fast under his touch. It was strong, he mused, strong and quick and very definitely alive, and all of a sudden it was Mammon who could not breathe.

The shadows dissolved, and Mammon was not entirely sure it was his own doing, was not sure when or how exactly Fran turned around in his arms and embraced him instead, dishevelled and unashamed as he held Mammon close and lowered them both down to the floor. Mammon leaned into his touch, closing his eyes tight as he continued breathing in Fran's scent, felt the arms closing around him with strength unexpected of their slim form, felt the heart beating against his own chest. His hands clutched at the back of Fran's shirt, all semblance of strength or composure fleeing him as he pressed himself close to Fran, trying to drink in the stubborn, invincible life that kept on beating within such a deceptively fragile shell.

"I have lost enough," he whispered into Fran's shoulder, the words sounding broken even in his own ears. "Don't let this be stolen from me, too."

"So greedy, Mammon-senpai," Fran murmured, and the gentleness in his voice very nearly made Mammon shatter then and there, except Fran was clutching him tight and holding him together and that was all Mammon could ask for.

Mammon wasn't sure how long they lay in the darkness on the bare floor, couldn't tell if he drifted off at some point or not, but as the sun rose enough to burn his closed eyes Fran's arms were still around him, solid and alive and whole.


End file.
